Perfectly Unfinished

Wouldn't you know the one day a friend unexpectedly stops by my house, needing to use the bathroom, is the Day of Unfinished Projects? Like the freshly stain-treated pile of baby clothes on the bathroom counter that didn't make it to the laundry yet. Or the toilet that I was going to scrub, but then Evan woke up. Or the mantle still holding my hubby's piles of things that he deposits there (which I periodically gather and lovingly give back to him). Or the kitchen table strewn with art projects and, yes, a few Easter eggs. Even just two doors closed (the computer room and master bedroom) would have made me feel a bit better. But no, today all the secrets were out; perfection was no where to be seen. My friend caught me right in the midst of my life. Sigh! I wish it were prettier!

Why is it that we moms/ladies feel we have to clean up, make everything just right, before we can have each other over? Aren't we just unnecessarily burdening ourselves and each other instead of just relaxing and enjoying each other's company more freely? Perhaps it's just me and my perfectionistic self that feels this way. As another friend tells me, "If someone's coming over to look at my house, then they have no business coming." She says that, though, with her one school-age child, living in their perfectly cleaned, organized, and decorated house. Things are different in my world. I've discovered that having three kids is one of God's ways of breaking me of my desire for perfection. I'm just not quite there yet...